He’d make them pay for this. Every last one of those filthy dogs that called themselves 141.

Everything had gone so perfectly. From the prison break to everything after that. Almost. But this time. This one time, the task force had been ahead of him. Maybe this was just what he got for becoming careless, too confident.

Somehow, they’d found out about you, your relation to Konni Group and him. And so, they’d chosen to punish his insolence by taking you from him, doing only God knew what to you.

It was like all sane spirits had left his mind, once Konni’s intelligence had found your whereabouts. He got his men and they were on the way in a heartbeat, tearing through guards like they were the tides that split for them.

And then he lost it all over again when he held your limp body in his arms, barley able to feel a pulse.

Each and every of his common senses screamed at him that it was useless to try and save you. With all the agony you were in, it’d be more merciful to put you out of your misery right now. But Makarov was a selfish man through and through, spiteful as well. And if it meant he had to put you through some more agony to keep you alive to get back at those dogs, then so be it.